


Dance for Me

by kelsanity



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, BokuAka makes me soft, Entertainer Akaashi Keiji, First Kiss, Fukurodani Syndicate, Gangster Bokuto Koutarou, M/M, Misunderstanding, Nekoma Syndicate, Slow Dancing, lap dance, special request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23782414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelsanity/pseuds/kelsanity
Summary: Keiji was contracted as an entertainer - his roles had been vague until he began working. He wanted to sing and lose himself in the music, but he was also cursed. People gravitated toward him whether he wanted them or not. Some would call it charisma or natural good looks, but that was an excuse for them to get close to him - to touch him. Keiji couldn’t see what they saw in him.But he wasn’t stupid.In this world, people had to use each other to get what they wanted. He was just biding his time until the opportunity presented itself.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 125





	Dance for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!
> 
> I'm currently working on my first project "In the Middle of the Night," but I needed to flex some writing muscles since it's been a while. I decided to do a small writing prompt and this little story came about! Whoops! Anyways, here's a little BokuAka oneshot set in a Mafia AU cuz we all need some Mafia AUs in our life~

He hated dancing - hated everything about it. He hated their hands on him, pulling him this and that way, feeling their way down his body as if he was an object to be examined. Dancing was their excuse to get him close, and since it was a service provided by the club...employees, he had to accept their offers. No matter how much it made his skin crawl.

Keiji loved music, though, and felt safest up on stage away from their hands. He could drown out their voices, the catcalling long since pushed from his radar to care, and let the lights blind their faces from his attention. They all blended together anyways. The music was what kept him whole when everything else seemed to want to rip him to pieces - everyone each claiming a part of him as their own.

“There you are, Akaashi!”

Hearing his name from the bar, Keiji made his way over, carefully avoiding contact with any wandering hands.

“Hello, Nobuyuki-san,” Keiji greeted the lead bartender. He was well built - tall and broad shouldered - and carried an air of authority, but all of the employees knew him to be kind and protective of them.

Nobuyuki’s face was tight even as he tried to give Keiji a gentle smile. He wiped his fingers off on the towel hung over his shoulder before leaning across the glossy bar counter. His voice was soft, easily drowned by the interluding music in the room, “You’ve been requested tonight.”

Keiji had taught himself long ago to suppress his impulses like the shiver that threatened between his shoulder blades. He could feel the tension hold there, though, as he took in a deep breath.

“Are you good?”

“I’m good,” he lied. Keiji had to, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to do his job. Ever.

Nobuyuki knew. Everyone knew who worked at the club, but this was their work.

Keiji thanked Nobuyuki for letting him know and headed upstairs.

The Cat’s Meow was the largest club in Tokyo’s underbelly. It was considered neutral territory for all the yakuza syndicates, despite being run by the infamous Nekoma syndicate. The club consisted of a few gambling halls, three separate bar areas, a mainstage with its hypnotic dancefloor, and a few private rooms where most personal transactions of the families took place. The Cat’s Meow was considered a haven to many who had nowhere else to go, and employees were equally treasured as property of Nekoma, profiting off of their talents.

Keiji was contracted as an entertainer - his roles had been vague until he began working. He wanted to sing and lose himself in the music, but he was also cursed. People gravitated toward him whether he wanted them or not. Some would call it charisma or natural good looks, but that was an excuse for them to get close to him - to touch him. Keiji couldn’t see what they saw in him.

But he wasn’t stupid.

In this world, people had to use each other to get what they wanted. He was just biding his time until the opportunity presented itself.

When he reached the room Nobuyuki told him about, Keiji rapped his knuckles against the sleek black door. There wasn’t a handle or a keypad. The only way inside was with an acquired keycard. In the hall, the lights were dimmed, casting mystery over all the other identical rooms with only individual numbers setting them apart, and silence threatened to swallow him whole until a deafening click unlocked the door before him.

Straightening his black jacket, Keiji took one last steadying breath before pushing the door and entering the room.

“You wished to see -”

“AKAAAAAASHI!”

Keiji blinked as he closed the door behind him, hearing the automatic click as he swallowed the surprise in his throat. “B-Bokuto-san…?”

Bokuto Koutarou - the up and coming rising-star of the Fukurodani syndicate - could give Nobuyuki a run for his money. He always carried himself with confidence that easily intimidated people, and if that wasn’t enough, his hair alone could easily catch anyone’s attention. He was always a loud presence whenever he visited the club, but Bokuto also seemed to make the air a little easier to breathe too.

“You requested to see me?” Keiji evened out his voice, hoping Bokuto wouldn’t pick up on the bubbling nerves. As far as he knew, Bokuto never requested anybody. It wasn’t his style.

Bokuto grinned and placed his hands on his hips, triumphantly puffing out his chest and tilting his chin ever so slightly. “I did.”

Keiji had to glance around the room, scanning his environment to assess the situation and its current possibilities. Each room on this floor was arranged similarly - black leather sofas with a long, narrow coffee table deposited in the middle; a self-service bar was tucked away in the back corner; and there was a singular door towards the back which would lead to a private bathroom. There were...other private rooms arranged much differently that Bokuto could have chosen, but it seems this was just a standard meeting room.

Some of the tension in Keiji’s shoulders relaxed.

He still wasn’t sure what Bokuto could possibly want with him, given his wildcard status amongst patrons, but Keiji didn’t feel as if he was in danger. Of all of the gangsters Keiji spent his time with, Bokuto was the least likely to harm him in any way.

“I see,” Keiji simply nodded his head and stepped forward. “Then what is your request?”

Their eyes met, and Keiji couldn’t suppress his shudder this time. Bokuto was always intense and never backed down, easily holding Keiji’s gaze until there was no room left between them. His eyes were hungry, and for a split second, Keiji thought he would be swallowed whole from them alone. 

He had to remind himself that this was Bokuto - the same Bokuto who often challenged him between musical sets to shots and to which Keiji always denied because he hadn't finished work just yet. This was the same Bokuto who hooted and hollered on the dancefloor as he and Kuroo got ridiculously drunk almost every Saturday night. Bokuto always asked about how Keiji’s day was going with every visit. He was the only one who showed a genuine curiosity towards the kind of person Keiji was rather than assume what he was like because of his affiliation to the club.

Bokuto wasn’t like everyone else who requested him.

“I want a dance.”

Keiji could feel his eyes widen at the request. His body flushed cold and all the air felt knocked out of his lungs as if someone punched him in the gut. So...Bokuto was like the rest of them after all.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto’s arms dropped to his sides just as he reached out to take Keiji’s wrist.

Reflexively, Keiji swatted his hand away and steadied his eyes, knowing they reflected the cold, gray steel he would need to encase himself in if he was going to get through this request. 

This was his job after all.

“A dance,” Keiji repeated, his tone devoid of all inflection, “fine. As you wish.”

Bokuto grinned at him, his usual eagerness causing acid to burn in the pit of Keiji’s stomach. He turned on his heel and went to the screen mounted to the wall. Keiji typed in his password, selected the music, and walked back over to his client whose attention turned to the speakers in the ceiling. The confusion on his face should have been amusing or adorable, but Keiji felt another twist in his gut.

“Um,” he blinked, “Akaashi…?”

Keiji slipped into the smile that he knew would keep his client’s attention while protecting the internal shattering of his heart. His hand pressed against the thin material of his client’s button up, feeling the defined pecs underneath and cursing the gods that this had to be the way Keiji confirmed that, yes, Bokuto really was solid muscle. He caught his client off guard and pushed him back onto the leather sofa behind him with a breathy oof.

He blinked up at Keiji, his eyes widening and staying locked onto Keiji’s face. Why did he have to look at Keiji’s face?

Keiji pushed that from his mind and concentrated on the rhythm of the song. He hated dancing, but he wasn’t bad at it. He knew how his body worked and what it was capable of. Keiji knew how the swivel of his hips could easily capture his client’s attention - how grinding down into his lap would excite him and speed everything along. Grasping the head of the sofa, Keiji could use the leverage to cage his client into his arms, giving Keiji a moment of control before he knew things took a turn.

He leaned in closer, chest to chest now, and placed his lips just underneath the juncture of his client’s jaw, feeling his pulse beat erratically against his lips. Keiji sighed as he felt him swallow thickly, lamenting how things could have gone if Bokuto hadn’t made this stupid request. He kissed along his client’s jawline until he found the corner of his mouth. Keiji should have teased him more, made him work for it really, but he wanted this over with. That way he would have a bit more pieces left of himself to hold onto.

Keiji was the one to kiss him, beating him to it. He had expected Bokuto to at least kiss him back, but it was as if Keiji was kissing a brick wall. When he finally registered the kiss, Keiji took Bokuto’s opening and went further, licking into his mouth and coaxing him to follow his lead. And he did. It seemed he was allowing Keiji more control than he had expected.

When Bokuto’s hand came to finally rest on Keiji’s thigh, he knew it was only a matter of time before Bokuto snapped and took over. They all did after one point or another. They would take what they wanted and only came back when that craving resurfaced. Keiji was nothing more to them than that.

The hand squeezed against his thigh, and Bokuto pulled back, his voice coming out in a rasp, “Akaashi…?”

Keiji simply hummed back, “Hm?”

“What...are you doing?”

Keiji pulled his head back further to look down at Bokuto, blinking at the question. The question rang in his head as if the answer should have been obvious. He was performing what was asked of him...but Bokuto blinked owlishly up at him, waiting patiently for Keiji to answer him.

Did he do something wrong? Was this not what his client had wanted? Was he going to get punished for not fulfilling such a common request?

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bokuto’s hand came to caress Keiji’s cheek, his thumb making soothing circles against his cheekbone.

“I’m,” Keiji swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure, “doing...what was requested.”

“Oya?” Bokuto cocked an eyebrow at that. “I just wanted a dance.”

Keiji could only nod. He thought he’d been doing just that. Requesting a dance...a lap dance. Sure, he was trying to rush things, but it was necessary. Things were easier to block when they were more...passionate.

“Hey! Can I change the music?” 

Before Keiji could answer, Bokuto had easily and gently deposited him onto the sofa and got up to head to the screen Keiji used earlier. He couldn’t see from where he sat, but he listened as Bokuto flipped through songs on the playlist. It was designed specifically for the more intimate requests, and yet, Bokuto managed to find something...lyrical.

Keiji hadn’t bothered to go through the songs before, generally keeping to the top of the rotation and usually never going past the tenth song. Even the music had been slowly suffocating him. But this was sweet. Classical. The arrangement was familiar and sounded like something he would have heard at home, practice billowing out from the music room. The lower brass and woodwinds created a bouncing riff while the higher pitched woodwinds countered the accompanying violins for the melody and harmonies.

He could feel himself start to smile.

Bokuto had come back to the sofas and extended his arm, reaching for Keiji’s hand.

It took a second for Keiji to register that this is what Bokuto meant by dancing. Actual dancing. He could feel the embarrassment now prickle hot under his cheeks.

“Come on, Akaashi,” Bokuto practically whined, puffing out his cheeks as Keiji still didn’t take his hand. “I know you say you don’t like dancing but I thought if it was just us...it would be okay.”

“Just us…” Keiji blinked at him before slowly taking Bokuto’s hand, letting him help him to his feet. “Bokuto-san, I -”

“Please, Keiji? I promise I won’t ask again.”

Keiji could feel his whole body warm at the sound of his name on Bokuto’s lips. He could feel his heart melt rather than shatter as Bokuto’s arm came to wrap around his waist and bring him against his chest. He was so strong and yet held Keiji like he was the most fragile thing in the world.

“I,” Keiji’s eyes fluttered as he looked into Bokuto’s eyes. The hunger was still there, but what Keiji hadn’t noticed earlier was the warm affection wanting to protect him at the same time. It was the only gaze he didn’t mind being trapped under. “I can fulfill this request.”

Bokuto grinned and ever so slightly squeezed Keiji against his chest.

“If it’s for you,” Keiji brought his hand to the back of Bokuto’s neck, bringing his face closer to his, “I would do anything.”

Bokuto’s other hand came to caress Keiji’s cheek as he closed the little space between them, connecting their lips into a tender kiss. There was nothing heated or forced to spoil the moment. The music continued to float around them, erasing everything except for this. They swayed back and forth in nothing-special movements, languidly pressing their lips together every few beats.

Keiji loved music and often felt safest on the stage away from anyone else, but for the first time in his life, he felt safest in the arms of another as their song kept their feet moving.

**Author's Note:**

> I have quite a few hcs for this and may write some more small drabbles, but I'm trying not to let this take over until I'm done my other fic first! But, I'll share some thoughts with y'all:
> 
> 1\. Akaashi worked for the Nekoma syndicate before being traded to work for Fukurodani once Bokuto takes control of the syndicate.  
> 2\. Nekoma and Fukurodani work very closely together - Nekoma specializing in financial gains and Fukurodani as the muscle.  
> 3\. Akaashi came from a well-off family, but they owed too much to Nekoma. The syndicate decided to use Akaashi's talents and looks to lure in patrons, though he picks up some useful skills of his own along the way.  
> 4\. Akaashi, Bokuto, and Kuroo are all rather close and Bokuto and Kuroo often keep handsy patrons away from Akaashi if they can help it.  
> 5\. Akaashi never asked to be apart of this life, but after meeting Bokuto, he's grateful for it all the same.
> 
> I have a few more hcs regarding Nekoma's whole syndicate and a few other smaller plot points...but I'm trying to resist the urge to start a new story before finishing my other one ^^;
> 
> Anyways! Thank you for reading~ Let me know what you think!


End file.
